


Everything I Never Knew I Wanted

by KnightlyErrand



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dark! Marco, Infidelity, Jealousy, M/M, Multiple chapters, jealous! Marco, like everyone, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 22:58:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightlyErrand/pseuds/KnightlyErrand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco is slightly depressed about Jean's new- and first- relationship. He learns something about himself he'd have preferred to know beforehand. Based on a fic by sarrae called "Love in Small Doses".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything I Never Knew I Wanted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Unbeta-ed, so sorry for that. I love Jean/Marco and I loved sarrae's story so... This happened. I think Marco is too nice in some fics, so he's kinda more "daring" in this one. He's still polite and stuff, but he's not as fluffy as usual. Hope you like it still.

My cellphone wasn't exceptional by normal standards. I owned a phone so old it could be called a piece of history; I was also ridiculously proud of it. Jean used to laugh at it, about how it could only call and text, how it was so beat up it could fall apart with one touch, but every time I suggested running to the electronics store, he would immediately run his mouth with compliments. How great a phone it was, how much life it had left. Said it was a part of me. I keep it with me always.

Elizabeth's been urging me to get a new one. Says it's a piece of junk. It is, but it was really important to me. She didn't understand. I supposed it was a best friend thing.

But then something I'd never seen coming, though I'd planned for it, happened. Jean left. Or, more like I left him. I lived in a white-picket neighbourhood in the city, and he still lived where we had grown up together. And each day I'd wake up thinking I could talk to him, see his smiling face, and I couldn't. I didn't want to bother him with my calls. I had no right to cling on him like this.

So when Jean called me, I was ecstatic. I hadn't made any friends among Elizabeth's rich crowd, so while Elizabeth went off shopping and dining with her girlfriends, I often sat alone at home. I didn't want to sound to eager though, so I coughed slightly to clear my throat, checked the clock---10:13---- and answered as naturally as I could.

"Hello?" my voice sounded high, and I checked myself while Jean talked. His baritone echoed my name and I swallowed.

"It's a little late for you to be calling, isn't it?" I asked, trying to understand his rationale. Jean was often straightforward and conversations were usually on the short-side unless he was retelling a story. Lately he rarely called, so it must've been for something important.

"I'm going back to the city," he sounded nervous but quite happy. He must've found someone really good at the wedding. I was pleased the antisocial Jean found someone at last. And I totally wasn't jealous. The twinge which didn't pass unnoticed in my chest was nothing but a passing discomfort.

"Wow…You must like this girl," I said lightly.

A slight ululation crunched against the phone and I strained to hear better. 

"Um, yeah, I need you to pick me up from the airport," he sounded impatient, though not annoyed. I didn't think I'd done anything wrong, so it was most likely impatience with his predicament or himself. "It's a surprise."

I didn't know why Jean thought he had to go so far for this one girl, but then again I didn't know her so I couldn't judge. I didn't like how he was going to all this trouble for her either. Normally I'd feel more warmly about a partner of a friend, but this was different. This was Jean. Jean never went out with anyone. He'd never introduced me or talked about a special someone for as long as I'd known him, which is to say his entire life.

I didn't want to ruin his relationship though, so I agreed to pick him up and asked him to send me the times and address. He thanked me and cut off his phone. I stared at it disbelievingly. It's not like it could've been the first time he cut me off, but I didn't remember the last time it happened. Maybe because I was alone and lonely, I let it get to me a little. I vowed I would make sure this girl was perfect for Jean. I knew everything about him after all.

\------- a few days later----

The traffic was awful, but due to my usual planning I had left an hour ago for a trip which was only supposed to take half of that. Even so, I just barely managed to make it there in time for Jean's plane landing. He waved when he saw me, his face breaking into his usual grin. Same old Jean, tall and angular, who could turn the heads of every girl in a 10 meter radius. When I was in high school, I'd felt so privileged to be not only his friend but his dearest one. I was average in many ways, and the only thing I'd been better at was academics. Jean didn't care though. He made me feel as if I was worth more than anything else in the world.

I'd missed that feeling greatly. Elizabeth didn't come to see Jean, of course, saying it was too much trouble and she'd see him anyways some other time. I was guilty grateful, and I felt horrible for feeling slightly relieved. Somehow being with both Jean and her at the same time was exhausting. 

After greeting me however, Jean's face drained of blood at an alarming rate. "Marco…"

Worried to an extent, I asked cautiously, "What is it?"

"I'm so fucked man." We began to walk out the airport and towards the parking lot.

Glancing around---I disliked cursing, though Jean always seemed to throw in a few words my chiding aside--- I answered with an inquisitive sound and a soft murmur.

Taking that as a beseeching to continue, he said, "How do I be romantic? What is romantic? Why is romantic?"

Ignoring his incoherence, I tried to soothe him, "Jean, it's going to be okay. What are you talking about?" My voice softened as I took in his wide-eyed stare and panicked expression.

"I have to surprise someone and I want to make it perfect and I how no fucking clue how to and oh my god what if something goes wrong and-" A metaphysical dam seemed to have broken inside Jean and his words flowed nonsensically on. I was worried he'd asphyxiate. 

"Jean, dude, it's all right, okay?" Noting the childish glare and innocent hope in his eyes and ignoring the fact I thought he was adorable, I said as calming as possible, "Romance, right? I've got it covered. Do you have any sort of plan in mind?"

At this he blanched, nearing a deathly-pale complexion. I suddenly felt very worried for my best friend's health.

"I… Have something," he said slowly, turning the statement more into a question.

"Yes?" I prompted.

"It's stupid," he looked away ashamedly.

Come on Jean, just a little more, for me? I silently begged, knowing my prayers would bleed into my eyes. Jean could never resist then. 

"FIne. I was planning to get---" he blanked out and I waited patiently as you would for a wild animal to come out of hiding. Wild animal Kirstein, dressed up in some kind of animal skin toga, cowering in a corner was seemingly way to close fitting for mental comfort. I resisted a laugh for Jean's sake and sanity. "Get some… flowers." he finished, blushing furiously.

My own mind did a wipe-out and I struggled not to do something extremely rash and dangerous like hugging him. WIld animal Kirstein should remain in his corner with his adorable ideas. He scratched the line across his neck where his blonde hair peaked out, as he did was he was agitated, waiting for my answer. 

I clapped him on the back, chuckling good-naturedly. "What a lucky girl," I exclaimed. Jean winced, though for what I wasn't certain. I didn't want to ruin the mood after he'd been away for so long so I waved it pass, planning to ask later. "I know the perfect flower shop. The manager's kind of rude, but he's a good guy, really. And the nicest girl works there; Petra's her name. Great girl, very pretty," I grinned at him, my arm slung across his shoulders. "The store's called Levi's, after the guy who runs it, the rude one, you know?" I bulleted on, tacking on unimportant details I knew would calm Jean's nerves.

It worked. "As bad as Eren?" he chuckled. Eren was a boy in high school whom Jean legendarily fought with constantly, akin Bast and Apep in the olden tales. They were friends but managed to hurl insults in every conversation. 

"Almost," I smiled and suggested, "Maybe they should get together."

He seemed surprised, and I wondered whether he wasn't comfortable with homosexuality. I was, but we had never talked about it so I wasn't too sure on his viewpoint. Jean respected people as long as they didn't do anything to harm him though, so I doubted he was a homophobe. 

By that point we had already reached my car. It predated even my cellphone. Jean watched it nervously, "This thing isn't going to break down like last time, right?" 

We had gone on what was supposed to be a camping trip in the mountains with Eren and two other friends, Sasha and Connie. This was between high school and college, and none of us had much reason or wisdom. We thought it would have been fun to bring some beer- not too much because I was coming- and go on a road trip into the mountains armed with one tent and a whole lot of Fritos. What no one planned for was my car breaking down on the highway ten miles away. We had to call Eren's parents to come pick us up because his phone was the only one with battery. We got an earful from Mrs. Jaeger about how drinking is illegal until 21 and we were lucky the police didn't come. The entire trip was called off.

I still regarded it as one of my fondest and most embarrassing moments ever. From Jean's amused and pained expression, he felt the same way. 

I explained that a new friend from the city had fixed it up, a down-to-earth guy named Reiner. I didn't explain he had a boyfriend, who was actually really nice. His name was Bertholt, and it seemed like he was the shyest and politest person I'd ever met. It seemed like the city-folk were much more comfortable with their sexuality than us country-folk.

Elizabeth didn't say anything, but I could tell she felt uncomfortable around them. She didn't hate gay people, but she felt a general animosity towards people like that. I didn't understand why, but she would never insult someone openly so it didn't really matter. I assumed it had something to do with her rich father but I wasn't too sure on the details. We'd never talked about it. Elizabeth was truly a nice person anyways, so even if she disagreed with the values others had, she accepted they had a right to those views. She was friends with Reiner first.

"That's nice of him," he was still eyeing the car warily, "Is he any good?"

"Hasn't broken down yet," I chuckled.

"Emphasis on the yet, right?" he still got into the car in any case and it groaned even under his slight weight.

"Maybe instead of dying of shame, I'll just get hit by a car when this piece of shit stops in the middle of a four-way." he grumbled, crossing his arms and putting his long legs up on the dash-board. 

I kept my eyes on the road, willing the event he mentioned not to happen. It was only a few blocks to Levi's.

"I know you have a house and everything, which, I must say, is pretty unusual in a metropolitan area, but do you really need a car?" he asked.

"I wanted to keep it," Elizabeth didn't, but I loved the little thing dearly. 

"Yeah, yeah, sentimental bastard," he joked. Jean seemed to love the car even more than me, treating it with insistent care in high school when I first inherited it from my dad. It was my dad's first car. He didn't use it anymore, instead keeping it in the backyard. Sentimentality runs in the family. It was something of a joke when I received it for my 16th birthday, for I had insisted on not getting a car. I was frugal to the extreme, and I saw no use in a car when I could easily ride the bus to school and hitchhike off my friends to go anywhere else. It wasn't like there was much to do in our tiny town. My dad lugged the car from the yard and placed it in the driveway with a ridiculous red bow on top. When Jean saw, he went crazy, not knowing about the inside joke my family had.

After we explained it to him, he swore on my honor and his he would find a way to reanimate that car. He worked all summer on it- my birthday's June 16-, studied car engineering and did his best to fix that car. On the last day of summer vacation before the start of my junior year, he succeeded, having spent over 400 dollars on repairs- in the country everything is cheaper- and hours pouring over car manuals and textbooks.

I was ecstatic. No other friend had tried so hard to do something for me before. I felt like I had mattered that summer, and I was happier than could be. I remember hugging him so hard I didn't know where my body stopped and his began. I nearly cried, and my family all laughed at me for being so happy. But it was Jean. No one else could have brought such a reaction out of me.

 

"So… What are you getting the lucky girl?" Jean peeked over at me from the passenger seat, head tilted at hands folded in his lap.

"Hmm…?" Jean seemed lost in thought. I repeated the question.

Eyes widened and dilated, and I thought he would begin to panic again. He answered slowly, "Roses."

I chuckled lightly, a warm flame of amusement tickling my gut. He's an utter romantic, even if he won't admit it.

"That's really nice of you."

"Thanks…"

We sat in a comfortable silence born of years of friendship, punctuated only by Jean's nervous tapping. It drove Eren crazy, back when we all used to ride together. I never minded it all that much. It was just Jean; a spontaneous, nervous wreck with anger issues and adorable hair. I wouldn't wanted him to change anything.

I pulled into the first spot I could find near the shop, which was of course about 3 blocks away. That was one thing I hated about the city. Finding parking was like trying to find a goldfish in the Indian ocean. In short, impossible. It was infuriating and brought out a side of me I wished I'd never known about. I could tell Jean was eyeing the way I clenched the wheel so hard you could see the white of my bone under my skin, but, like the friend he was, said nothing. Jean knew me far too well for comfort.

I was glad he didn't complain about the distance either. Elizabeth usually wore heels- she worked in some kind of fancy business firm- and hated walking any sort of distance. Jean padded silently along, matching my pace perfectly. I nodded to him, a wordless thanks. He nodded back, and we walked to Levi's.

The man himself was at the counter, eyes cold and slitted. He had the eyes of a dead fish, blank and grey. Jean stiffened beside me, and I could tell he was tempted to leave. Petra popped up from behind a row of petunias however, and Jean relaxed minutely.

"How can I help you?" she asked, her round face raised in a pretty smile. Petra was one of my favorite people I wasn't close friends with, and I wished I could get to know her better. She seemed very sweet.

Levi chewed on a wad of gum, thin lips churning in an endless cycle. He watched intently, fish eyes watching for what my mind took for signs of fear. He was definitely a predator. I only hoped he wouldn't say anything today. He had the worse mouth.

No such luck. "Brought your boyfriend out today, Bodt?"

I inwardly cringed. I knew Levi had seen me come in Elizabeth a few times, and that it was probably a poor attempt at a joke, but I dreaded Jean's reaction.

"Sorry I'm already taken. I know you want some of this." Jean pointed to his body. 

What. "He's a friend," I explained.

Levi now watched Jean, some sort of twisted merriment dancing in those eyes, lighting them to a wispy-cloud grey. Definitely an improvement, though the sight sent spiders up my spine. I wondered whether he was with the mafia.

He made an unidentifiable noise and shifted so he was leaning back in his seat. He remained in that position, unspeaking, while Jean picked a bouquet of roses. Jean brought them to the counter, head tilted in some kind of alpha gesture I didn't understand. I left it to Jean to deal with jock-speak in high school. As I watched, standing near Petra who was organizing some pretty flowers in a bunch, I saw Levi lean forward slightly, lips close to Jean's ear. He whispered something and Jean's eyes widened. He drew back with a smirk and rang the roses. Jean took them mutely and turned on his heel towards me. He grabbed my arm and stormed out, brushing past Petra. I had no idea what happened and while Jean's face was set in angry lines, he wasn't telling me anything.

We reached the car in record time and he opened the door for me. When I got in he immediately shut it, the force shaking the car considerably. He stalked to the other side and climbed in, arms folded in a tight embrace.

I started the car and began moving out of the minuscule spot I'd found. "Are you going to tell me what that was about?"

Jean's lips tightened, flashing white. "Hell no."

"Gotcha."

"Stay away from that guy, promise?" His eyes promised something else entirely, and there was an air of danger entwined in the words.

I doubted I would, but I promised anyway. I didn't think Levi would do anything to me.

"Hand me that address, would you?" I gestured to the thin sheet of paper I'd printed off of Google.

"Sure thing." His hand brushed my own as he passed it to me, and a slight tremor shifted through my body. What was that? Geez. Everything's got me so riled up. Maybe moving to the city did something to me.

"Thanks."

The conversation stopped there. There was nothing we could talk about, really. I didn't feel like talking about any of our old friends and I wasn't too sure about what Jean was doing anymore. We'd chatted a few times since he went back, but nothing too intense. We sat in silence, and this time I felt uneasy. Maybe it was because of the thing with Levi. Jean had reacted so strangely.

The ride was much shorter however, and we arrived outside of a lovely home near the center of the city. It gave off a kind of rustic charm, and I wondered how the girl had managed it. She must've been very talented. Jean requested a baseball cap and slung it on, which I thought was odd, but I guessed it was to surprise her.

"Thanks man," Jean stepped out of the car.

"It's no problem," I murmured.

Jean didn't look back at me, eyes fixated on the simple blue door.

I was going to drive off and not interrupt the two, but I wanted to make sure Jean got in okay without leaving him alone. Jean didn't notice me, all attention on the house. He knocks on the door and stands there. His back was turned to me, but I could tell the flowers covered most of his body.

The door opened and I could see a flash of bobbed blonde hair and long eyelashes ringing a caerulean eye. Beautiful. I couldn't stop the thought. The girl was short and petite, and I could see a flash of creamy thighs before the door slammed shut with a soft moan. This girl was gorgeous, model material, and I couldn't help but feel the deadweight of jealously sink in my stomach. It wasn't like I wanted to date Jean; I had Elizabeth. But never had I felt so unequivalent to someone   
before. I could never match up to someone like that.

I drove away, lead in my stomach and heart. I could only hope Jean was truly happy with her. She was everything I could never be.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Marco. When will he ever find out the truth...


End file.
